


The Post-Rundown Job

by DelektorskiChick



Category: Leverage
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s05e09 The Rundown Job, Established Alec Hardison/Parker - Freeform, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Multi, Parker just watches a movie, Threesome - F/M/M, bisexual!Eliot Spencer, demisexual!Parker, pansexual!Alec Hardison, slightly dom Hardison, slightly subby Eliot, wound care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:21:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelektorskiChick/pseuds/DelektorskiChick
Summary: A take on what happened after the walk away at the end of The Rundown Job. Wound care gets... steamy.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 10
Kudos: 301
Collections: 2019 Leverage Secret Santa Exchange





	The Post-Rundown Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elysiumwaits](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/gifts).



> This is so not beta'd and it's my fault; life happened. But it's done, which is better than what happened on my last exchange, so there's that. Ely, I hope you enjoy!

By some horrible twist of fate, the next charter flight available out of Reagan National willing to fly to PDX wasn’t until the next morning, and there was no way in hell Eliot was flying commercial with two bullet wounds. While walking away from the milling crowd of mixed Feds and emergency responders, Hardison pulled out his phone and extended their hotel rooms an extra night.

“You gonna be good on your own, man?” Hardison asked from under Eliot’s good shoulder.

“Yeah,” he grunted, shifting his weight off his bad leg. “I’ll call a nurse.” Another grunt, another shift of his weight as he braced himself on Parker. “You two enjoy yourselves.”

“They gonna be registered this time?”

Eliot glanced sideways at Hardison. “What do you mean, this time? When was _last_ time?”

“The time with the Ultimate fighters at the carnival?”

“Oh. _That_ nurse.” Grunt, step. Grunt, step. “She was registered. Once upon a time.”

The adrenaline was starting to wear off, and the aches were really setting in. Thankfully both bullets had missed anything vital, but-

“Just come sit with us.” He and Hardison both stopped, pulling Parker to a halt as well.

“What?” she asked. “All we’re going to be doing is watching a movie. The World War II one with the nightclub in the place?”

It took him a second after they got moving again before Eliot realized what she meant.

“ _Casablanca_?”

“Yeah, that one.”

He looked up at Hardison, who shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t under Eliot’s arm. “It’s okay with me if it’s okay with her, man.”

Eliot focused on walking. Grunt, step. Grunt, step. Grunt, step.

“Fine.” He forced out. “But I’m not paying the room charges if I get blood on your furniture.”

*

Eliot hissed between his teeth as Parker and Hardison lowered him onto the bed. “Y’all don’t need to kick yourselves out of your bed for me. I’m fine on the couch.”

“Man, just shut up.” They propped him up on all of the pillows in the entire suite; Hardison had to call down to the front desk for more for him and Parker.

Eliot tried to lose himself in meditation while the other two got the movie running. He didn’t want pain killers dulling his responses if something were to happen, but pain could slow him just as much as drugs if he couldn’t compartmentalize.

“Hey, you good?”

Eliot cracked his eyes open and leveled a look at Hardison.

“Stupid question, I know, but you’re tense as a wire. Anything we can do to help?”

Eliot sighed out a tight breath. “Not really.”

“I have painkillers, if you want them.”

Eliot tried not to jar his wounds as he laughed. “Thanks but no thanks, Parker. Dulls the wrong areas.”

“Endorphins work too. So does oxytocin. And dopamine.”

Eliot blamed the gunshot wounds on the fact that it took him a solid five minutes of the movie to realize what she had just said.

“ _Seriously_?”

Parker shrugged. “When I sprained my knee a while back-”

“You didn’t sprain your knee, Parker, I told you. You-”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved off Hardison’s mild interjection. “Point is, orgasms, while not normally really my thing, definitely helped when I didn’t want to take meds.”

He just blinked at her. She shrugged again. Eliot managed to get his brain back online.

“Even if I could manage to get to the shower and stand up by myself, my dominant arm happens to be the one with the bullet hole in it. I can’t-”

“You wouldn’t have to go to the shower.”

Eliot just about choked on his tongue as Hardison spoke up. A look at the hacker showed a blush high on his cheekbones, nearly hidden by his dark skin. “Or worry about your arm.”

For _half_ a second, Eliot’s tightly leashed emotions ran wild, showing him glimpses of those long, skilled fingers of his running down Eliot’s bare stomach, the difference in color more marked due to the flush of his skin-

He slammed the lid down tightly on that fantasy. Hell, he’d watched Parker climb Hardison like a tree just earlier that day - _way_ hotter than diffusing a land mine had any right to be- and the fire of that last agonizing kiss for luck ( _for_ _morale_? his traitorous mind wondered) before he’d run headlong into gunfire, desperate to keep both of them safe no matter the cost-

Humphrey Bogart was talking on the tv, and Eliot’s head was spinning. He _wished_ it was from blood loss. He swallowed hard.

“I- I couldn’t ask that. Of either of you.”

Dammit, he could feel himself hardening against the seam of his jeans, still covered in blood and bandages. “You guys are still in that stage where you’re figuring things out, and-”

“Eliot, man.” As Hardison turned and met Eliot’s gaze -still blushing ferociously- “it wouldn’t exactly be a hardship.”

“I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable-”

Parker, her gaze on the tv, said “Uncomfortable isn’t exactly the word I’d use. Neither would Hardison.” She grabbed a bite size chocolate bar off the nightstand- where the hell had she gotten _that_? -and went on. “More like interested. Intrigued.”

All moisture fled Eliot’s mouth. It dropped open, making him gape like a landed trout. Hardison leaned slowly in and gently cupped his cheek, a question in his eyes and raised brow. Eliot nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He closed his eyes as Hardison fitted their mouths together. His lips were dry -not unpleasantly so- and warm. Eliot shifted his good arm to wrap around the back of Hardison’s head, pulling him closer in a way reminiscent of earlier in the day. When Hardison tentatively pushed his tongue against the seam of Eliot’s lips, he parted them in acquiescence.

He tasted like sugar and fake oranges.

Hardison groaned quietly as he broke the kiss.

“Damn, Eliot.” Their foreheads were gently pressed together as they each tried to catch their breath. Eliot opened his eyes and met Hardison’s gaze with the same intensity from outside the van they’d commandeered, but with different overtones. There were things he wanted, needed to say, but he just couldn’t-

“Can I try?” Both men twitched at Parker’s words. Hardison nodded as he pulled away, sliding his hand up Eliot’s arm to keep the hitter’s hand on the back of his neck.

Parker didn’t go for his lips, not at first. She kissed his cheek, lips butterfly light, then his forehead, the corner of his right eye, and finally the tip of his nose before slotting her mouth over Eliot’s. And she went for it too, all teeth and demands. Eliot moaned as she bit and tugged his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Eliot panted as she released him, needing more.

Parker rolled away from him, and Eliot wanted to pout - _him? Pout?_ \- but she was back quickly. She held a blunt tipped pair of scissors from the first aid kit, raising an eyebrow. Eliot nodded; they would have had to cut his clothes away anyway to change his bandages. Wouldn’t make any difference if the cutting happened now or then.

Hardison leaned over and kissed him again, distracting him as Parker cut the fabric of his jeans up his good leg. She paused briefly when she realized he wasn’t wearing underwear, but then kept cutting up his shirt without moving the denim away. Once Parker cut away most of the offending clothing; Eliot and Hardison shifting slightly to help remove his shirt -the jeans continued to lay on him- she started carefully teasing the edge of the bandage on his shoulder up.

Whenever she hit a particularly tender spot that made Eliot shift, she’d stop and Hardison would change up his kissing. First, when the gauze pulled at the edge of the wound, he slid his thumb just under the edge of Eliot’s jaw, stroking at the long stubble there. When she eased the bandage away from the stitches, he moved away from Eliot’s mouth and started nipping at the underside of his chin. Parker cut and taped fresh gauze over Eliot’s shoulder just as Hardison ran a finger lightly over Eliot’s nipple.

He arched slightly, a groan pulled from his throat. This was about eight of his wildest fantasies coming true at once. Not, you know, necessarily him being injured, but at this point Eliot wasn’t complaining. Not if it was him and Hardison and Parker together. He wasn’t going to ruin this moment.

Hardison shifted Eliot into a full sitting position so that Parker could tape bandage to the exit wound in his back, and as they both laid him back, Eliot’s jeans fell away from his now full erection. Parker cocked her head as she spotted it.

“It looks different than Hardison’s.”

“No two people are the same, babe.”

Eliot just sighed.

Parker shrugged, then climbed over Eliot to swap places with Hardison to begin redressing the wound on Eliot’s thigh. Hardison, when he had moved to his other side, had slid a little bit further down the bed and removed his own shirt. Now he looked up at Eliot, from under those _sinfully_ long lashes that Eliot may or may not have had mild daydreams about during some of the more boring cons. His hand slid down his abs, and Eliot’s eyes nearly crossed as his half second fantasy from earlier came true.

“Can I touch you?”

“You been touching me, man.” Eliot panted, “I ain’t got a problem with it. Exactly the opposite, in fact.”

Parker tapped lightly against his left knee. “Up.”

Eliot shifted to give her access to both wounds at once, and as he did so Hardison kissed his chest just under the gauze and wrapped long fingers around Eliot’s cock. Despite the pain of Parker removing his top layer of bandages, he nearly came then and there.

“You good man?”

Eliot’s laugh turned into a quiet moan. “So damn good.” He opened his eyes to meet Hardison’s gaze. “So god-damn good.” He carefully lifted his hand and ran it over Hardison’s buzzed hair.

The corner of Hardison’s mouth quirked up as he kissed Eliot’s pec, the backs of his fingers brushing against Parker’s as he began to stroke up and down on Eliot’s cock, gently rolling his thumb across the head on each upstroke.

Eliot didn’t even feel Parker pull the gauze from the wound on his leg. The top of his head felt like it was floating somewhere in the upper stratosphere. He heard a high-pitched whine in the room, over the sound of the movie still playing in the background, and it took him hearing Hardison’s voice to realize the sound was coming from him.

“Breathe, baby. It’s okay.” He kept repeating, thankfully still moving his hand. “We got you. Breathe.”

He shuddered in a great, ragged breath, gasping as he tried to even out his breathing. His right hand shook where it now rested on Hardison’s shoulder, and he lifted his good hand to twine with Parker’s as she finished tying the bandage and laid his leg down.

She pressed a chaste kiss to his temple, then propped herself back on the pillows beside Eliot and kept watching the movie.

“You okay?” Hardison asked, stopping his movements.

Eliot whined.

“Words baby, use your words.”

“If you don’t start moving your hand,” he barely managed, “I swear to god I’ll smash your computers when we get home.”

“Aw, now why do you have to be mean like that?” he said, but there was a smile on his face and his hand did start moving again. After the sandwich thing last year, Eliot could tell he wasn’t taking any chances.

Parker put her arm around Eliot’s bare shoulders, keeping her eyes on the movie, and started trailing her fingers up and down the side of his neck, from his shoulder to just in his hairline. Eliot turned his head and dropped an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder.

The _second_ he looked away, Hardison dropped his mouth down over Eliot’s cock with his hand still working the base.

If Eliot hadn’t trained himself to iron control over making loud noises during sex -hey, it was _risky_ having loud sex in some of the places he’d been- he’d have screamed. But it was a _damn_ close thing.

“Oh, god, Hardison, I’m gonna-”

Hardison did a thing with his tongue that had Eliot seeing stars. He did it _again_ , and Eliot came, his head falling back on the pillows and Parker’s arm.

Well, his leg and shoulder certainly didn’t hurt anymore.

As he fell back into his body, he felt Parker brushing a tear from his cheek, heard Hardison quietly comforting him.

“Easy man, easy. We’re here, baby. We got you.”

Eliot was kind of shocked. He never whited out like that, not with anyone, much less _cried_. No one, at least, since Aimee…

It just proved that he trusted these two with his life. He could be vulnerable around them, vulnerable in a way that he never usually was.

He finally managed to open his eyes look down at Hardison. His lips were swollen and red, and Eliot didn’t think he realized that he was rutting softly against the bed.

Well, Eliot had a few tricks of his own up his sleeve.

“C’mere, man.” He muttered, jerking his chin at Hardison. The younger man slid up Eliot’s body and slid his open mouth over Eliot’s. Eliot marveled at the taste of himself mingled with Hardison’s own sugary sweet taste for a short moment, then slid his hand as quick as he could manage down the front of Hardison’s jeans, cupping him in his palm.

Hardison moaned into his mouth. “Eliot, you don’t need to-”

“Just shut up, man.”

Within moments, he was moaning and fucking into Eliot’s curled hand, which was a good thing, ‘cause Eliot was still having issues moving that arm a whole lot. They kept kissing as Hardison’s hips began to stutter, and when he groaned out his orgasm Parker shushed them.

“The movie’s almost over!”

Eliot just laughed quietly as Hardison rested his forehead against his, trying to catch his breath. They were going to have to have a long talk about this in the morning, but that was a problem for future Eliot, not post-orgasm-glow Eliot.

And as Hardison tucked all three of them under the covers, with Parker curled up against one side and Alec on the other, he really didn’t think that it would be that much of one either.


End file.
